Christmas Time With Bigby Wolf
by AdventurousShadows
Summary: The Sheriff of Fabletown was never a big fan of Christmas. Will anybody or anything be able to change Bigby's mind? Mix of Fables and Wolf Among Us.


**A/N: I just wanted to make a little oneshot, as a way to say Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy. Set in the normal Fables timeline.**

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It was a cold winter night in New York City, as the winds howled in the air, and snow gently fell from the sky. The cold was more bitter than usual, meaning that there were only a few people walking around, freezing as they walked down the icy sidewalks.

Walking on the sidewalk, was a lone man wearing a long, brown trench coat. He lit a cigarette in his mouth, as he slightly shivered from the cold.

Bigby Wolf hated this time of year. The cold, the loud mundies, the overcomplicated holiday season. He didn't like a single thing about this time of year.

His main problem was how badly his senses got in December. He constantly has to deal with overbearing smells and sounds, but with everything covered in holly, gingerbread, bright lights, Christmas carols, etc, his head always felt like it was about to explode. If it was up to him, he would just stay in his apartment until New Year's.

But it wasn't up to him. He was the Sheriff of Fabletown. Meaning he had to run around everywhere, all the time, and try to keep the fables from killing each other, or exposing themselves to the mundane world. He just came back from breaking up some fight at a bar between a glamoured troll and a regular guy. Luckily, Bigby was able to get the fable out of there before the police showed up.

Now, he had to go to his office and fill out all the paperwork. He sighed. That must of been his least favorite part of the job.

Huffing his smoke, he finally made his way to the Woodlands Luxury Apartments. He opened the gates, to see the white topped trees in the garden covered in bright Christmas lights. Ignoring them, he walked through the front door.

He gave a sigh of relief as he felt the warmth of the lobby flood over him. He looked at Grimble, the ever sleeping security guard, before making his way to the elevator. He pressed the button, waiting for it to arrive. After a few moments, the doors dinged open, and the detective walked inside.

"Hold the elevator!" Bigby heard a familiar, annoying voice call him.

"Shit..." he grumbled to himself, as he quickly tapped the floor button on the inside of the elevator. The doors began to close, but were interrupted by a hand, making them come open once more.

Jack Horner joined the Sheriff in the elevator, panting slightly at the running he had to go. The wolf simply had his face in his hand.

"Hey Bigby," the con man greeted. "Merry Christmas."

"Jack, what the hell are you doing here?" Bigby gruffly asked, taking a drag of his smoke.

"Well, I'm glad you asked," he cheerily told him. "You know that thing that Snow does every year, where she gives all the fables a Christmas present?"

"Yeah...?" Bigby answered, raising his eyebrows at him in suspicion.

"Well, it's the weirdest thing, but I didn't receive mine this year."

Bigby was unimpressed. "If I remember right, you're a con man who's constantly trying to steal from others. And oh yeah, you tried to help Snow's sister fake her own death."

"That was just a one time thing!" Jack defended.

Bigby rolled his eyes. "Here's the thing, Snow actually did send you a present. God knows why...and here's the kicker, it was a bottle of Aphrodite's cologne."

"Wow, way to go spoil my present for me..." Jack stated.

"I thought you already knew about it, since you're ALREADY WEARING IT." Bigby growled, making Jack nervously rub his neck, the fable knowing that he was caught.

"I, uh-"

"Seriously, trying to con another present out of the Business Office? You're a jackass."

"Well, uh-"

Bigby sighed. "I got work to do. See yourself out of I'll tear out your throat, alright?" He told him, as the elevator reached Bigby's floor. When the door's opened, the werewolf left, leaving Jack by himself.

"Happy Holidays to you too, Sheriff..." the notorious liar muttered to himself, as the doors closed on him.

Bigby made his way to the Business Office, as he grumbled to himself about Jack. If anyone could get under his skin, it was that jerk.

As he got closer to the door, he was surprised to see that there wasn't a line to the office. Usually, there was a long line of fables, all with some kind of complaint to file to the Deputy Mayor.

But today, nothing. It was...surreal.

Bigby opened the door to the Business Office, revealing the large, magical room. At her office desk, as usual, was Snow White. At the sound of the door opening, she looked up, before giving Bigby a small smile.

"Hello, Sheriff. Merry Christmas," she greeted, as she was filling out some kind of forum.

"Yeah, Yeah," Bigby dryly replied, as he searched the offices. "Where is everyone?"

"Boy Blue is at his apartment with Pinocchio. Bufkin is probably drunk off eggnog somewhere. And I'm..." she trailed off, as she put her signature down on something. "About to leave."

"Wait, what?" Bigby couldn't believe what he was hearing. Workaholic Snow White was leaving early?

"Uh, yeah. It's Christmas Eve, Bigby," she justified. "All government offices are closed at 9:00."

"You actually close?" Bigby asked. "I always thought you just locked the door and kept doing paperwork."

"Aren't you the one who always tells me to get some rest?" She asked, as Bigby put his smoke out in the ashtray on her desk.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Do you hate Christmas?"

Bigby was a bit surprised by the question. "What?"

"You heard the question," Snow said, a curious look on her face.

"No, I don't hate Christmas. I just don't get all excited for it like you guys do."

Snow gently shook her head. "Maybe that's why Santa never gets you anything."

"Santa never gets me anything because he's a dick," Bigby told her, as he crossed his arms.

The former princess scoffed. "Right. The most powerful and benevolent fable of all time doesn't get you a present because he's a dick. Good theory, detective."

Bigby got a teasing smirk on his face. "Well, he either doesn't get me a present because he's a dick, or because I'm a dick. And I think we both know I can't possibly be a dick."

Snow rolled her eyes. "Just go home and get some rest, ok? The day after Christmas, we're going right back to work."

"Whatever you say, boss," Bigby gruffed, as he turned on his heel to leave.

"And try to get some sleep. Santa won't visit if you stay up too late," she teased, making the wolf sigh as he left the office.

He promptly made his way back to his apartment. A part of him was relieved that he didn't have to worry about the paper work for another two days, but at the same time, he felt like he should be doing his job. Crime doesn't take a holiday.

At least, not normally. It seemed like Christmas was an exception. St. Nick was highly respected by the fable community. Mostly because he has the power to erase everyone from existence, but doesn't abuse that power in the slightest. He just makes toys and delivers them.

He opened the door to his apartment, to see the usual cracked wallpaper, cramped space, and dirty surroundings.

"Home sweet home..." Bigby muttered, as he took his coat off and put it on the coat rack in the corner. He turned his head, to see his tiny kitchen. Inside, Colin was trying to open the refrigerator, and failing terribly.

Bigby groaned at the sight of the pig, earning his attention. "Oh, hey Bigby. Merry Christmas."

"Colin, why aren't you at the farm?" Bigby asked, as he slightly pushed the pig aside and opened the fridge. He pulled out two beers, one for him, and one for his surprise guest.

"It gets cold this time of year," Colin explained, as Bigby poured one of the beers in a glass. "Wow, you're actually pouring me a drink? The Christmas Spirit must of finally bit you on the ass."

"You know, I could just drink both of them," Bigby told the pig, before walking past him, beer bottle and beer glass in his hands. He placed the glass down where Colin usually rests, before sitting down in his chair. He sipped his beer.

"Jeez, you seem like you're in a worse mood than usual," Colin stated, as he walked over to his spot. "Come on Bigby, it's the holidays. Lighten up a little."

Bigby sunk back into his chair, enjoying its comfort. "I'm fine, Colin. I just hate how the mundies celebrate Christmas."

"Oh right. All that holly messes with your allergies," One of the three little pigs chided, as he began lapping up his drink.

"I don't know why I let you stay here," Bigby said, as he rubbed his head.

"Maybe because you have something of a heart, and you blew my house down, and feel kind of shitty about it," Colin bluntly told him. "I don't know. Just spit-ballin' here."

Bigby took another drink of his beverage. The pig had a point. Not that he'd ever admit it. "I just don't get why you want me to like Christmas so much."

"I like Christmas," the farm animal stated. "It's just a good time for everybody. Except you, of course. Mister 'Do what I say or I'll kick your ass' doesn't like the festive season."

"Ha ha," Bigby dryly responded, drinking his beer.

"I'm just saying, it isn't good to just try and ignore Christmas. I mean, look at Ebenezer."

"Scrooge?" Bigby asked. "Didn't he actually like Christmas eventually?"

"Yeah, and then he died a year later. I'm just saying, you should have some fun, before it's too late."

"He was an old man," Bigby justified. "Besides, dying after accepting Christmas doesn't really make me want to celebrate."

"Eh, point taken. I guess I could've used a better example. What about Tim?"

"What about Tim?"

"Come on. Tiny Tim, walking around on his crutch, nothing good going for him, but he's still happy around Christmas."

Bigby shook his head, getting slightly annoyed. "Wow, that's so convincing," the fable deadpanned. "I'm going to go get a tree and trim it up and down."

"Fine, fine, just stop with the sarcasm," Colin pleaded. "It's so annoying it hurts."

Bigby smirked, proud in his victory. He then situated himself more comfortably in his chair, as he closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep for once.

Behind his closed eyelids, he could see a bright light come into the room. He opened his eyes to see a giant, floating blue ball of energy. Bigby was tense at first, until he heard the distinct sound of jingle bells.

"Oh no..." he muttered, as he quickly stood up from his chair. The ball slowly morphed into the form of a large, portly man, wearing red clothes, and possessing a white beard.

"Hello, Mr. Claus," Bigby dully greeted, as the form of Santa Claus fully came together.

"Hello, Bigby," Santa gently returned the greeting, seeing the look of agitation on Bigby's face. "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all," Colin warmly greeted. "It's nice to see you, Nicky."

The fable of Christmas gave a hearty chuckle. "Why, hello Colin! I hope you've been staying out of trouble."

"Heh. Define 'trouble'," Colin smirked, as Santa playfully patted the pig's head, still chuckling.

"What do you want?" Bigby bluntly asked. "If you couldn't tell by the lack of milk and cookies, I wasn't really expecting you."

"Oh, that's alright," Santa reassured. "The missus is making me go on a diet anyway. Now all the cookies and milk goes to the elves. Don't get me wrong, they deserve it, but it still hurts to see them all eaten like that without getting a taste."

"Claus," Bigby interrupted, starting to get angry. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

Suddenly, the usually jolly fable looked crestfallen. "I came to apologize," he admitted.

Bigby furrowed his brow, confused. "Apologize?"

"Yes, apologize. For not giving you any presents for all these years," Santa stated. "To be honest, I still held your previous life against you."

Bigby grimaced, remembering all the terrible things he did back in the Homelands.

"But I've been keeping a close eye on you lately, and I can pretty much say that you've redeemed yourself." St. Nick then smiled brightly, laughing. "Look at you! Going from eating old ladies to saving lives. You've changed for the better, Bigby. I'm sorry that I didn't see it sooner."

Bigby scratched his cheek, not entirely sure how to react. He went quiet, looking at his pig friend for some kind of reaction. Colin looked just as uncertain.

Suddenly, Santa held his hands out, as some light, magical energy circled around him. The energy then balled together, before transforming into a tightly gift wrapped box in Santa's gloved hands.

"I thought about just doing the same thing I do for everybody, and just conjure the gift, but I figured I should do this in person. Besides, you don't seem to have a tree," Santa said, giving Bigby a slight glare.

Bigby rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a little bad for his under decorated house. "Heh, right..." Bigby mumbled nervously, carefully taking the present from the jolly legend. He studied the gift with extreme curiosity, not able to make heads or tails of it.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" Santa asked, excited for the wolf.

Bigby quietly nodded, before he tore open the present. Shreds of wrapping paper fell to the ground, as Bigby held his Christmas gift with wide eyes.

"A box of cigars?" Bigby asked, slightly shocked.

"A box of Cubans! The good stuff," Santa confirmed, happy at the sight of the sheriff genuinely surprised.

"Wow, I...thanks..." Bigby was able to manage, as he looked back up at the powerful fable.

"No problem, my dear boy," The jolly man reassured. "Just be sure to keep doing what you're doing. If you go back to how you were, there's a good chance you'll get something worse than coal. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Bigby said, with as much respect as he could give.

Santa gave a warm smile. "Keep up the good work, Bigby." The fable then looked down at the pig near his feet. "Ah, Colin, I almost forgot." Santa then summoned a bottle of brown liquor, and placed it on the floor next to the farm animal.

"What is it?" Colin inquired, in slight wonderment.

"It's a 1000 year old bottle of scotch from the Homelands," Santa told him. "Some quality liquor. Well, I must be off. I wish the two of you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year. And Bigby!"

The legendary man in red earned the wolf's attention.

"I'm proud of you," he warmly told the detective, before he faded off in a bright, blue glow.

Bigby sat back down in his chair, still looking at the wooden box of cigars in his hands. Colin went back to his resting spot, staring at his bottle of liquor. He then turned to Bigby.

"I'll trade you some of this for one of those," Colin said.

Bigby contemplated the proposal for a moment, before smiling. "Deal."

With that, Bigby quickly threw and lit a cigar in both of their mouths, and poured a glass of the scotch for each of them.

"Merry Christmas, Bigby," Colin said, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, you too," Bigby smiled contently. Maybe Christmas wasn't so bad...


End file.
